The Hunting trip
by DirewolvesandGriffins
Summary: Rhiannon Cousland and Ser Gilmore finally get some alone time. Smutty-fluffy goodness abound.


" Damn it!"

Rhiannon swore as her arrow went wide, embedding itself in a tree instead of the buck that she had been tracking for the better part of two hours. The beast bolted, vanishing into the woods before she had time to notch another arrow. Sighing, she pulled her arrow out of the tree and slumped to the ground. Sweat dripped down her face, her hair sticking to her cheeks and the nape of her neck.

"Giving up already?"

She looked up to see Ser Gilmore looking down at her, a grin pulling at his lips. She glared up at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That buck can go straight to the void for all I care," she sighed, "it's far too hot to keep chasing it and my shooting arm needs a break."

Laughing, he sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and placing a kiss on her forehead, "well, we did pass a lake not too far back. Perhaps we can fill our water skins and rest for a bit before heading back to the castle?"

Rhiannon nodded, rising to her feet. "Well, we had better hurry. Father has invited the Howes to stay the week and they should be arriving in a few hours. Mother will throw a fit if I don't get back in time to pretty myself up to be paraded before Thomas and Nate."

"I think you look amazing," Rory replied, taking her hand "exertion suits you."

The pair walked down the path until they reached the clearing where the lake sat, crystal clear and reflecting the green of the overhanging branches. Rhiannon shrugged off her bow and arrows before rushing over to the to the lake's edge and splashing water on her face. She sighed in relief as the cool liquid ran down her face and neck. Rory sat down beside her, dipping his water skin into the lake and taking a drink.

"So which one will it be?"

"Sorry, what?" she glanced over at him, brows furrowed in confusion

"The Howe boys," he replied, taking another sip, "which one do you think you'll choose when the time comes?"

"That's not funny Rory," she snapped, "we've spoken about this already. I don't want either of them. I want you."

He turned to look at her, his green eyes tinged with sadness, "And I want only you, but you know we won't be able to keep this up much longer. I'm a knight in your father's employ, and you are the only daughter of Ferelden's second most powerful family. Surely-"

" Stop it." She interrupted," Damn it, I love you Rory Gilmore. I will not have you saying such things. Besides, Mother and Father promised not to force me, unless you forgot."

He chuckled, running his thumb over the intricate tattooed lines on her cheek, "How could I, my love? Your mother didn't stop talking about 'The Incident' for a full month. I suppose you're right. After all, I know things that those Howe boys don't."

He kissed her, catching the lobe of her ear between his fingers and making her shudder when he applied just the right amount of pressure. She returned the kiss, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging, just enough to make him moan softly and pull her onto his lap.

"Maker, I love you Rhi." he said, trialing kisses along her jaw, "Promise me, that we'll be together as long as is possible."

"Of course," she replied, "if I had it my way, I would marry you straight away. You know that."

He pulled back and gazed into her eyes, the intensity of his gaze causing her breath to catch in her throat.

"You mean that?" He asked, " Truly?"

"With every fiber of my being," she said, "nothing would make me happier."

He kissed her then, with the desperation of a drowning man. She gasped as he pulled her against him, acutely aware of his body beneath hers, and kissed him back with just as much passion. He groaned, pushing her down onto her back and moving his hands up her thighs to the waistband of her leggings. She gazed up at him, heart slamming against her chest as he undid the laces of her leggings. Maker, this was really happening. Rory paused for a moment; searching her face for something, permission perhaps. She responded by leaning up and kissing him, hard. She pulled back then, eyebrows raised in an open challenge.

"You're going to be the death of me, woman." He growled, hooking her fingers in her waistband and pulling down.

Once he had rid her of her boots and leggings, he trailed his hands up the inside of her thighs, making her gasp and wiggle beneath him. After what seemed like an eternity, he moved her smalls aside and slid two of his fingers into her. He smirked as she instinctively moved her hips in an effort to make him go deeper. She bit her lip and tried to stifle her cries as he thrust into her, curling his fingers in just the right way, driving her completely mad.

"Rory, Maker please," she gasped, clawing the ground beneath her, "I-I can't-"

Her words ended in a wail as her orgasm ripped through her body, and still he continued to torture her until she came back down, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. Dazed, she barley had time to register the removal of his clothing before he was on her again. He pushed her hair out of her eyes and kissed her on the forehead.

"You're sure this is what you want," he asked, "we don't have to if you are not ready."

Rhiannon paused, considering his words. She had read about these things, though in most cases they took place in a bed, by candlelight, not on a forest floor with leaves in her hair. The priests always said to wait until her wedding night, not to give into temptation, but right now every molecule in her body was screaming for her to let him take her, right here and now.

She turned her gaze to meet his and nodded, "Yes, I want this."

With her permission, he pulled her forward before leaning down and claiming her mouth with his own, stopping only to pull her tunic over her head and toss it aside. His body was pressed against hers and she could feel his arousal, hot and heavy against her thigh. One of his hands moved to her breast, his thumb making lazy circles over her nipple until it hardened under his touch, then moved to its' twin and repeated his actions. She squealed when his mouth closed over her right breast, his tongue tracing figure eights over her nipple. So enraptured was she, that she scarcely noticed his hand between her legs until his member grazed the bundle of nerves, shooting bolts of pleasure through her body, before pressing against her entrance. She moaned as he moved into her with little trouble, aided by her own arousal, and buried himself completely. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then he began to move within her; long strokes that made her toes curl and shorter, faster thrusts that caused her to cry out. She moved with him, circling her hips in a way that made his eyes go wide and a litany of curses pass through his lips as he fought for control. Pulling her up and onto his lap, he grasped her backside as she moved against him, burying his face in her neck and thrusting upwards hard enough to make her cries echo throughout the clearing. Suddenly, she was swept up in another orgasm, digging her fingers into his shoulders and biting back screams of ecstasy. Beneath her, Rory's own thrusts quickened and before she knew it, she was on her back again. He held onto her hips hard as he thrust into her again and again before finally reaching completion with a shudder. She didn't know how long they lay there, coated in sweat and gasping for breath. It wasn't until the crack of a branch beneath a boot dragged her back into reality.

"Well, well, what have we here?" the voice was familiar and turned her blood to ice

Rhiannon looked up, and found herself staring into the cold eyes of Thomas Howe.


End file.
